L’amica Geniale (My Brilliant Friend)
Sep, 25/2022 also in: 21st century | Italian Literature
By Elena Ferrante
After years, after many “What! You are Italian!”, I caved. I caved and read Elena Ferrante’s L’amica geniale, made famous by the HBO series produced on the basis of the book. L’amica geniale is the first of four novels (and the only one that I have read so far).
It was a pleasant surprise. The novel narrates the story of two girls, who meet in elementary school, somewhere in Naples in the 50s. Through the voice of Lenù (nickname for Elena, the narrator), we see the lives of entire families, in and out the city. The plot itself is easy to summarize, and not that particular: two friends who are discovering herself through all that growing up involves: competition, misunderstanding, and clashing of emotions. What is grappling is the ability of the author to describe convincingly the difficulties of a social environment coming out of years of poverty and struggle, as well as the changes that already began to take place: the pressure for education, the sacrifices sustained by the belief that the next generation’s future, if not one own’s, would amount to something.
Throughout the book, we are left to imagine that the brilliant friend is Lila, who combines intelligence and assertiveness with maliciousness of a kind that is easy to see as being born of self defense, in a hurtful environment. Lila is supposedly the most intelligent one, the one who self-taught reading, and beats all other students at solving mathematical problems. Lenù, instead, is the diligent (rather than brilliant, genius) one, the one who suffers others instead of being aggressive towards what life throws at her. And yet Lenù is the one who will make it to continue her education, eventually moving away from Naples, while Lila remains trapped in it. For all her determination to fight everything and everyone, of the two she is less capable of shaking off the life that society, habits, and inertia assigned to her. It is tempting to interpret this as a well-known motif that still gets played today: being brilliant, in itself, does not matter all that much, especially if you are a woman.
The second interesting twist is the framing of the book. In the preface, we read of a mature Lenù who receives a phone call from Lila’s son. Lila has disappeared, has taken with her all her possessions, cut her out of all the photographs, left no traces of her existence. And this motivates Lenù to tell her story: Lila wants to disappear, but Lenù does not allow her to do so fully. I happened to read the preface after the book, and perhaps because of my tardiness in getting to it, I gave it more weight than what it perhaps deserves. Lila is mean and aggressive because she does not feel at ease where she is, and with whom she is. And for the initial part of our lives, while we are children, we cannot meaningfully escape these. In adult life, Lenù is instead free to make her own decisions, and decides to counter the friend’s act of rebellion, rather than to respect it.
As is well known, nobody knows who Elena Ferrante is. I heard many stating that, because this novel is narrated by a female voice and two women are its protagonist, the author must be a woman. Perhaps. To me, the novel has the taste of a grandmother’s stories, narrated after dinner night after night, grandkids bewildering but also being captivated. I would not be surprised if this turns out to be source of whatever is true in the story.
After years, after many “What! You are Italian!”, I caved. I caved and read Elena Ferrante’s L’amica geniale, made famous by the HBO series produced on the basis of the book. L’amica geniale is the first of four novels (and the only one that I have read so far).
It was a pleasant surprise. The novel narrates the story of two girls, who meet in elementary school, somewhere in Naples in the 50s. Through the voice of Lenù (nickname for Elena, the narrator), we see the lives of entire families, in and out the city. The plot itself is easy to summarize, and not that particular: two friends who are discovering herself through all that growing up involves: competition, misunderstanding, and clashing of emotions. What is grappling is the ability of the author to describe convincingly the difficulties of a social environment coming out of years of poverty and struggle, as well as the changes that already began to take place: the pressure for education, the sacrifices sustained by the belief that the next generation’s future, if not one own’s, would amount to something.
Throughout the book, we are left to imagine that the brilliant friend is Lila, who combines intelligence and assertiveness with maliciousness of a kind that is easy to see as being born of self defense, in a hurtful environment. Lila is supposedly the most intelligent one, the one who self-taught reading, and beats all other students at solving mathematical problems. Lenù, instead, is the diligent (rather than brilliant, genius) one, the one who suffers others instead of being aggressive towards what life throws at her. And yet Lenù is the one who will make it to continue her education, eventually moving away from Naples, while Lila remains trapped in it. For all her determination to fight everything and everyone, of the two she is less capable of shaking off the life that society, habits, and inertia assigned to her. It is tempting to interpret this as a well-known motif that still gets played today: being brilliant, in itself, does not matter all that much, especially if you are a woman.
The second interesting twist is the framing of the book. In the preface, we read of a mature Lenù who receives a phone call from Lila’s son. Lila has disappeared, has taken with her all her possessions, cut her out of all the photographs, left no traces of her existence. And this motivates Lenù to tell her story: Lila wants to disappear, but Lenù does not allow her to do so fully. I happened to read the preface after the book, and perhaps because of my tardiness in getting to it, I gave it more weight than what it perhaps deserves. Lila is mean and aggressive because she does not feel at ease where she is, and with whom she is. And for the initial part of our lives, while we are children, we cannot meaningfully escape these. In adult life, Lenù is instead free to make her own decisions, and decides to counter the friend’s act of rebellion, rather than to respect it.
As is well known, nobody knows who Elena Ferrante is. I heard many stating that, because this novel is narrated by a female voice and two women are its protagonist, the author must be a woman. Perhaps. To me, the novel has the taste of a grandmother’s stories, narrated after dinner night after night, grandkids bewildering but also being captivated. I would not be surprised if this turns out to be source of whatever is true in the story.